


Confusion

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Ball-gag, Bondage, Falling In Love, Handcuffs, Jealousy, M/M, Nipple Clamps, Verbal Abuse, aftermath of bad relationship, experiencing a bit of bdsm, head-harness, using CCTV to spy on people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23512198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: This is just something that popped up while being extremely bored these days. It is about Sherlock and John as well as Greg and Mycroft and how they finally find each other. Of course some people have issues regarding the sex and how to do it.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter One

Greg kept looking at Sherlock who in return kept looking at Mycroft who in return watched Greg looking at Sherlock. John looked at everything from the side and almost became dizzy. It was actually getting rather insane. Plus, he didn’t want Greg to look at Sherlock.  
He sighed and looked up again. Now Greg was talking to Sherlock. It looked urgent and a bit stressed. Slowly John walked up and lifted the crime-scene tape. No one stopped him because by now he belonged.  
“What’s up, Sherlock?” He asked with a calm voice. Both men turned their heads.  
“Lestrade doesn’t get it!” Sherlock stated making Greg raising a brow.  
“Excuse me? You didn’t even explain a thing!” He complained.  
“Of course, I didn’t explain. It’s obvious and I don’t need to!” Sherlock very imperiously tried to turn away.  
“Not to me it is. And you will stay until I _get_ it, do you hear me?” Lestrade almost hissed the words and it made John’s hackles rise.  
“Do not hiss at him, Greg!” He seriously looked at him and the action surprised Greg.  
“What?” He said.  
“You heard him!” Sherlock grinned and hid behind John.  
“Sherlock, please. In a few words for the Detective Inspector and then we can go?” He looked back up at him and suddenly Sherlock saw his tired blue eyes with dark rings beneath them.  
“Well, for the sake of God. As I have tried to tell you before, it was the victim’s father. He was abusing him and he probably wanted to come out. He got stopped and killed. Arrest the father. Blood and fingerprints will work out. Good night, Lestrade. John?” He took John’s wrist and pulled him away.  
“Thank you, Sherlock. Too kind!” Lestrade muttered but let him go. John needed a few seconds to react.  
“Sherlock, stop running!” He ordered with a rather commanding voice and Sherlock stopped at once. John looked at his hand and Sherlock dropped it like it was too hot all of a sudden.  
“What was wrong with you?” John quietly asked while a cab already approached.  
“I was fed up with it. Him. The crime-scene. It took too long. My brain was on fire!” Sherlock almost panted and John placed his hand on his arm to soothe him.  
“What do you need?” Sherlock gnawed his lips looking a bit helpless. And then he really shrugged.  
“Let’s just go home. Please?” He quietly begged and John just nodded. They rode home and John ushered him upstairs into their living-room. He hung up his coat and his jacket and made him sit on the sofa.  
“Tea?” He already switched the kettle on. He placed some chocolate cookies on a plate knowing very well that Sherlock had a sweet tooth. He even brought him his mug with the cookies and Sherlock smiled up at him.  
“Thanks.” He gingerly took it and devoured a cookie first. John raised a brow on his way back into the kitchen to pick up his mug, too. He had thanked him. That was a rare thing. By then John knew there was something wrong.


	2. Chapter Two

Greg watched Sherlock and John leave. Then he raked through his hair and closed his eyes.  
“Are you quite alright, Detective Inspector?” A voice asked from too close.  
“Huh?” Greg made a strange noise but opened his eyes again. And there stood Mycroft bloody Holmes. Greg had absolutely forgotten about him. Plus, he had no idea why he had been here at all. As if one Holmes encounter hadn’t been enough.  
“You look a bit sick. Would you like me to get you something?” Mycroft very politely asked.  
“No, not really. I mean thanks.” Greg looked at him and actually wanted a drink. A double, perhaps a triple, in front of a burning fire and his shoes off. He sighed and cast his eyes.  
“Come on then, Detective Inspector.” He just placed his long arm around him and pushed him forward rather gently. Greg moved and found himself in the back of Mycroft’s intimidating car. The screen between driver and back was up and then there was a double whiskey in his hand.  
“I …” Mycroft lifted his tumbler.  
“To you, DI Lestrade.” Greg could just stare at him but finally he got his wits together and lifted his glass, too.  
“And to you, Mr Holmes.” Mycroft Holmes stared at him over the rim of his glass.  
“Please, call me Mycroft. Gregory.” He sipped his drink.  
“Please, don’t call me Gregory. My parents do that. It’s Greg, if you don’t mind.” He sipped some, too, and closed his eyes in delight.  
“But I like your given name. Gregory.” A smile was on his face.  
“I don’t. Myc.” He smiled back and looked at a face of utter disgust. He just had to laugh out loud.  
“Thanks for cheering me up, Mr Holmes. I appreciate it.” Greg got serious again and sipped some more. Mycroft obviously relaxed.  
“No one ever called me that.” He slowly shook his head and then downed his drink.  
“Probably no one ever dared.” Greg said and emptied his tumbler, too. Mycroft just topped it up while the car kept driving to whatever destination. Greg slumped into the back and turned his head to face Mycroft Holmes.  
“What did you really want?” He asked.  
“Nothing. I actually wanted to see how Sherlock is doing but then I saw you.” Greg looked up again.  
“You saw me and decided to kidnap me?” He smiled while saying so.  
“The influence of one Dr Watson doesn’t do you any good, Gregory.” He smirked a bit.  
“As far as I know you didn’t offer him such nice treats, Myc.” Greg smiled.  
“I offered him money though.” Mycroft replied.  
“And he didn’t take it.” Greg looked at him.  
“He was very loyal very soon.” Mycroft sounded clueless and it made Lestrade grin.  
“Sherlock does that to people. If he has picked an individual to like and care for, he sends out vibes that make you like him. Perhaps even more.” Greg shrugged.  
“How is he then?” Mycroft just asked.  
“He is clean, that much is for sure with John around. He also behaves much better towards people. Except for Donovan and Anderson, but that can’t be helped.” Mycroft looked curious.  
“Really? It does surprise me.” He sounded thoughtful.  
“I know, you promised him a reward if he behaves. He told me once when staying over.” Greg said.  
“That’s quite correct.” Mycroft smiled.  
“What kind of reward?” Greg asked.  
“I confiscated his violin when he was still using. I didn’t want him to sell it. It’s too valuable. Plus, for him it is very important. Not that he knew that by the time I took it away from him.” He looked at Greg.  
“He will love it.” Greg sounded convinced.  
“You think?” Mycroft asked.  
“Yes. He told me it was his favourite possession and he would never get rid of it. Not even for drugs.” Greg replied and Mycroft just hummed.  
“He is quite the artist. He composed a lot and plays wonderfully. Never in front of an audience though. He’d rather die.” Mycroft kept looking at Greg.  
“So, now you know about your brother. What next?” Greg asked and emptied his tumbler.  
“Dinner?” Mycroft asked and Greg almost choked on the last drop of whiskey.  
“What?” He asked and wiped a tear off his cheek.  
“I asked, if you would like to have dinner with me.” Mycroft clearly said.  
“Just look at me, Myc. I just came off a crime-scene. There is blood and other unidentifiable things on my suit. I need to shower and change.” Suddenly Greg realised that he hadn’t said he didn’t want to have dinner with him.


	3. Chapter Three

John still watched Sherlock while cooking dinner. He still seemed restless and rather stressed. He put the wooden spoon away and approached him. He knelt by his side on the hardwood and looked at him resting on the sofa.  
“Why don’t you take a relaxing bubble bath? I know you like it. You may even steal my foam.” John suggested. Sherlock turned his head and looked at him out of half-closed eyes.  
“The one with the chocolate?” He asked and John nodded.  
“Yes. I could even prepare it for you, if you like?” John slowly stood and Sherlock’s eyes widened a bit.  
“OK.” Sherlock stood and John made a step back and walked into the bath. He once scrubbed through the tub and then filled it. Right when he was done, Sherlock appeared and he was bloody naked.  
John cleared his throat. His flatmate didn’t know any boundaries. He didn’t think about it, he only thought about a wonderful relaxing bath. He also didn’t notice that John had blushed crimson while he lowered his slim body into the water. He groaned and relaxed.  
John carefully adjusted his trousers and wanted to leave when he heard his voice.  
“Where is my rubber duckie?” He asked. John looked around and found it on the shelf right beside the toothbrush. He threw it into the water and Sherlock started to push it around and mutter something about the case. But when John turned to leave, he stopped him.  
“John?” He said looking up. And John looked. He looked at his dripping wet hair and swallowed.  
“Yes?” He stared at a point right above Sherlock’s head.  
“Thank you.” John smiled and met his eyes.  
“You are welcome. Just relax and I will see to our dinner.” A smile came up and John finally left the bath.  
Outside he wiped the sweat off his forehead.  
“Fuck …” John murmured and kept himself busy in the kitchen while Sherlock squeezed the poor rubber dock almost to death.

***

Sherlock wondered why John felt like he felt when he looked at him. He always assumed he had been doing something a bit not good or had acted wild or even embarrassing. And he didn’t want to embarrass John. Never. He kept thinking and finally came to the conclusion that it must have been him naked. He knew that John always covered his body in several layers of clothing, even at night. Sherlock had discretely checked that. He should probably tell him sorry.  
Actually, he was rather happy with his solution and left the tub when the water was barely warm enough. He used a towel and dropped it on his way out. But he turned around and picked it up again. He even hung it back up on the rack because John liked it tidy.  
Only why was everything John liked so important to him? Sherlock changed into comfy clothes and entered their living-room. He was able to smell dinner already and he moved directly towards the kitchen-counter.  
John looked over his shoulder and smiled at him when he appeared. It soothed him just a little bit and he smiled back.  
Normally Sherlock would go away after a minute, if John didn’t give him something to nibble on or even a task but he was almost done with the cooking and still felt him standing there. So, he fully turned around and saw him wringing his hands.  
“What is it, mate?” John asked leaning against the counter.  
“I sensed some uneasiness on your part earlier. I am sorry, if I behaved weird again. I probably should have donned my robe when entering the bath.” Sherlock stood very straight and looked over John’s head.  
“It’s all fine, Sherlock. I was simply blinded.” John smiled shaking his head. Sherlock’s head came up.  
“Blinded? Are you hurt? I have no idea how that is even possible!” He leant over the counter and stared into John’s blue eyes. John swallowed but wasn’t able to stop smiling. And his smile turned into a grin a minute later when Sherlock still stared.  
And now John stared back. He very slowly shook his head.  
“I was only joking. I am not hurt.” Sherlock shook his head, too.  
“I don’t understand.” It sounded almost sad when he slowly turned away. John looked at his back and decided to talk to him. He switched off the oven and moved around the counter.  
“Sherlock, wait.” Sherlock did stop and looked at John.  
“I was weird somehow, wasn’t I?” He murmured his question. John very much wanted to reach out for him, support him by holding his hand, but he didn’t know, if Sherlock would want it. And so, he didn’t.  
“You were naked, Sherlock, completely naked. And I was blinded by your body because you have a beautiful body. So, nothing bad happened. Perhaps I am the weird one because I find being naked inappropriate? I don’t know.”  
“I won’t do it again.” Sherlock said but John shook his head.  
“No, you live here, too. I mean, you should feel comfortable. I will adjust. I have to because being naked is perfectly normal in your own flat.” He nodded and Sherlock looked at him.  
“OK?” He said and it sounded doubtful. John again blushed and he quickly turned around. He moved back into the safety that was the kitchen. He picked the spoon back up and continued to cook their dinner. He didn’t see Sherlock’s slanted eyes.


	4. Chapter Four

“Well, you didn’t deny me, Gregory, did you?” Mycroft smirked.  
“No, I did not. Myc.” Mycroft topped up his drink.  
“I assure you; I have a nice home with a large bathroom and a comfortable shower and tub.” Mycroft looked at Greg. Greg wondered if he was flirting with him.  
“I believe you.” He looked at him and sipped some more. So did Mycroft. Finally, the car stopped and Mycroft led the way into a luxurious townhouse somewhere in London. Greg hadn’t really paid attention during the ride. Now he was in awe when he entered the place. And a second later he felt just horrible in his dirty shoes and the sodden suit covered in goo. He lowered his head and cast his eyes when very carefully getting rid of his shoes behind the door.  
Mycroft passed by him and showed him upstairs into his bedroom with an ensuite.  
“Here you are, Gregory. Please feel free to use everything. There is a dressing-gown right there and I will provide what you call comfy clothes right outside.” Greg dared to look up.  
“Thank you very much, Mycroft.” And he gave him a smile and called him by his given name to show how grateful he was. Mycroft nodded and disappeared. Outside the door he hurried downstairs and into his office where he switched on his computer to look at Greg inside the shower.

***

Upstairs Greg shed his clothes as fast as he could. Everything landed on the tiles and he sighed. He would have to ask for a plastic bag to carry it outside and hope Mycroft would let him keep the comfies. He climbed into the shower and turned on the water. The stall was as big as his whole bath at home. He grinned and extensively used shampoo, conditioner, and shower-gel. He felt great.  
Also, the alcohol had helped and he still had that expensive taste in his mouth. Perhaps there was a toothbrush, too, waiting for him.  
He looked forward to having dinner with Mycroft and took a towel from the rack. He slung it around his hips and really found a still wrapped toothbrush. He walked outside after having hung up the towel again and looked at the provided clothes. They were first class and had brands. Plus, they were all his size and fit perfectly well. Greg raised a brow.  
“What the fuck?” Greg muttered but got dressed. There were even warm socks and soon he padded downstairs to find Myc.

***

Downstairs Mycroft Holmes wiped the sweat off his face with a silken handkerchief. He had barely got his cock out of his pants on time to catch his cum so he could prevent soiling his trousers.  
“Dear God …” He muttered and upon hearing Greg approach stuffed the soiled tissues into his desk-drawer, shut down his computer, jumped up towards the window and just was able to open it. He casually leant against the wooden frame when Greg carefully knocked.  
“Come on in, Gregory. Did you find everything?” Mycroft asked knowing very well that he did.  
“Yes, I did, Myc. Thank you very much. The comfies are great!” Mycroft looked at him a bit closer and nodded.  
“I have to agree, they are.” Then he quickly cleared his throat and passed by Greg.  
“Come on, let’s order take-away. I have several menus.” Mycroft said over his shoulder and Greg followed him into the huge kitchen.  
“This is amazing!” He blurted out and once turned around to look at everything. Mycroft shrugged.  
“I never cook in here.” Greg just stared at him.  
“Such a shame.” He replied carefully touching the working-spaces.  
“What would you like me to order?” Mycroft asked holding up some menus.  
“Don’t you have any supplies?” Greg asked hopefully.  
“Are you planning to cook now?” Mycroft asked with an unbelieving voice.  
“Why not?” Greg shrugged. Mycroft looked a little bit clueless.  
“I really don’t know, but you go and check the cupboards and fridge. If you find enough, you cook. And if not, we will order.” Greg already started to open and collected. Mycroft watched him.  
“He looks almost happy doing this.” Mycroft wasn’t able to understand, but he let him do as he liked. He was convinced something rather good would come out of it.  
“I found everything for a tasty pasta-dish. Do you like pasta?” Greg asked and Mycroft rather unconsciously licked his lips.  
“Yes, I do.” In his head he already calculated the hours he would need to run on his treadmill, but this was totally worth it.  
“Very well then. Why don’t you get us something to drink while I start the chopping?” Mycroft was actually glad he had something to do. He brought a bottle of wine from his basement and opened it. He got glasses and poured the wine. He was glad, he had found the glasses. It was quite a bit embarrassing, that he didn’t know where to look in the first place in his own bloody home.  
Greg looked at him when the wine got moved over.  
“Thanks, Myc.” He smiled and lifted his glass.  
“Cheers, Gregory.” They drank and Greg leant against the counter rather comfortably.  
“You know, I feel very good here. You let me shower and provided clothes. You even give me booze. Cooking is the least I can do for you.” Greg looked at him and their eyes met. An almost shocked-shy smile came up on Mycroft’s face and he blushed a bit.  
“It does feel nice having you here. I like it.” He was almost at a loss for words. Greg grinned.  
“I will ring to get the dining-room set up.” Mycroft said and wanted to turn around.  
“Wait! What?” Greg called out and stopped him.  
“You are cooking and we are going to have dinner.” Mycroft raised a brow.  
“Yes, but I thought we will eat in here. You have a nice kitchen-table.” Greg pointed it out to make it clear what he wanted. Now Mycroft looked really shocked.  
“But this is for the staff to gather or for preparing things. I don’t eat in here!” They kept looking at each other.  
“You don’t?” Greg asked incredulously.  
“I don’t.” Mycroft said.  
“You’ll do today and you won’t ring anyone.” Greg sounded stern.  
“Are you ordering me around?” Mycroft asked but kept a smile on his face.  
“A bit? I just want us to stay comfy. It really would help, if you could get rid of your clothes and change.” Now Mycroft turned a deeper shade of red. He cleared his throat and placed his wine on the counter.  
“As you wish.” He quickly left the kitchen but could just see the smirk on Greg’s face. He hadn’t felt that insecure for years. Decades? He swallowed while walking upstairs into his room. The maid had already taken Greg’s soiled suit to clean. And now he stood inside his walk-in wardrobe to look for something comfy. He had to dig deep to find an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Both were well-worn and still fit him even though they were from his active-duty time. He had to smile. Sentiment to have kept them, but there they were.  
He quickly changed and just put socks on like Greg did. He felt surprisingly OK and denied himself a look at himself in the mirror. He could always read Greg’s face.  
“I did as being told.” He stood behind Greg who hadn’t heard him return and dropped the wooden spoon.  
“Jesus, fuck! Don’t sneak up on me!” Greg almost shrieked, but was able to hold it back. Instead his eyes wandered over Mycroft. Then he smiled.  
“Nice!” He smirked again making him blush. But it also made him feel better. It made him feel good.  
“Thank you. I do feel weird though.” Mycroft admitted and tried to look over Greg’s shoulder into the pot and pan.  
“There’s no reason. You look awesome.” Greg seriously said and it made Mycroft beyond happy. He even gave in into setting up the smallish kitchen-table. If his guest - his friend? - preferred it like this, he shall have it. He used a table-cloth and linen napkins as well as a candle-holder and the decanter. Finally, he rubbed his hands and was very pleased.  
“Pour the wine, mate!” Greg called and already came carrying the bowl. Mycroft poured and sat down. Greg placed the bowl between them and there were spaghettis inside. He also brought a second bowl that contained the sauce.  
“I couldn’t find any cheese?” He looked at Mycroft who had to think for a moment but then opened a cupboard where a grating thing sat for parmesan cheese.  
“Like this?” Mycroft asked.  
“Yes, exactly. God, this is perfect. You have everything in here a cook can only dream of!” Greg sat down and took some cheese over everything. Then he watched Mycroft putting the minimum of everything on his plate. And he took no cheese. Greg raised a brow.  
“Do you want to insult me?” He asked swirling some pasta around his fork. Mycroft looked up.  
“Of course not! I just …” Then he shook his head and took a bite.  
“I know. Sherlock says, you are too fat, but it isn’t true. You look good, very much so. Please eat!” Again, Mycroft blushed and wasn’t able to meet Greg’s eyes. But he ate and took a second helping, too. Greg was very pleased and ate, as well. Almost everything disappeared and the decanter was soon empty, too. Greg eyed it.  
“Would you like some more wine?” Mycroft asked and Greg nodded.  
“Absolutely. It’s wonderful. Thank you.” He smiled up at him and Mycroft melted. He quickly hurried into the basement and filled the decanter.  
“We could move to a room with a fire-place, if you like?” Mycroft suggested.  
“Sounds good. Perhaps there is a terrace where I could smoke a cigarette?” He sounded hopeful.  
“Absolutely. I will join you.” Mycroft stood and just left the kitchen. Greg started to clean up, so Mycroft came back after a few seconds because he was talking to no one.  
“I have a staff, you know. Just leave it and join me.” Greg didn’t like it, but he followed him.  
“I am not used to this.” He lit his cigarette.  
“Are you feeling uncomfortable?” Mycroft dared to ask but Greg shook his head.  
“No, I feel great!” He put a big smile on his face and Mycroft almost fainted. Then he took a deep drag from his cigarette and almost choked. Greg laughed out loud and they put a stop to smoking.  
Greg built a fire and they sat in front of it sipping their wine. Mycroft would have liked to be closer, but didn’t want to scare him away. Greg wondered, if he should do something.  
Time passed and finally Greg yawned.  
“Forgive me, I am tired.” And he slowly stood making his bones crack. Quickly Mycroft stood, as well.  
“If you like, you can stay over? I have guest-rooms.” Mycroft offered and Greg looked a bit disappointed.  
“But I can also send for my driver?” He made the next offer and now Greg looked annoyed.  
“Or I …” And here Greg interrupted.  
“Or you could invite me into your room?” A cheeky grin was on Greg’s face. Mycroft had no idea what to say or how to react.  
“Or I could just go. I am stupid. And I am sorry.” Greg murmured and tried to pass by, but Mycroft stopped him.  
“No, please stay. It’s me; I don’t know what to do.” He held Greg’s arm.  
“But you know what you want, don’t you?” Greg asked making him blush again.  
“Yes, I do.” He whispered the words. Greg gently pulled him close and pecked a kiss on his lips. Mycroft’s eyes closed and he sighed. He also relaxed, Greg was able to both see and feel it.  
“I’d love to stay, you know?” He whispered back.  
“I am glad.” Mycroft let go of him and moved upstairs motioning for Greg to just follow.


	5. Chapter Five

Sherlock sat down on their sofa and thought about the situation. Still he wasn’t sure about how to proceed from here. Finally, he just shook his head and was glad, that John wasn’t angry and didn’t want him to cover his body all the time. Plus, he had assured him, he hadn’t done anything wrong.  
He sighed and got up again. In the meantime, John had set up their kitchen-table, too. Actually, Sherlock had counted on it and just sat down. John looked at him and raised a brow.  
“Get us some wine, if you please?” He said and Sherlock got up again at once. He got glasses and placed everything on the table. John brought the food and it smelled delicious. Sherlock told him and John looked surprised.  
“You think? Thank you then!” He sat down and pushed the bowl over to Sherlock. He watched him take his fill and he watched him eat. After the first two bites he sped up and at the end took a second helping.  
“Why are you looking at me? John?” Sherlock asked when he met John’s eyes.  
“I like seeing you eat.” John quietly said and it made Sherlock smile a rather shy smile.  
“I know that. I assure you; I love your food.” John wondered what else he loved. Sherlock wondered what to do now to make him act.  
“Is there a dessert, too?” He just asked unexpectedly.  
“No, I didn’t make any because you normally don’t eat that much. But I can …” And he wanted to get up, but Sherlock stopped him.  
“No, no. Finish your meal. I can take care of it.” Sherlock leant back into his chair and looked at John.  
“Really?” He asked and Sherlock nodded.  
“Sure thing.” He sounded very convinced.  
“Well, surprise me then.” John really wondered what he would do. But only when John was done, Sherlock stood and took his wallet.  
“I’ll be right back.” He said and gone he was. He walked into the café downstairs, of course he did, and he only wore his comfy clothes. He would probably go naked, too, because he didn’t mind and would forget to get dressed.  
John just shook his head but smiled.  
Sherlock was back rather quickly and brought ice-cream. John licked his lips and expectantly looked at him.  
“I brought plastic-spoons and little paper-umbrellas!” Sherlock was excited and John loved the sight.  
“Show me!” John said and quickly cleared the table. Sherlock placed it down and took the paper off. He had bought two amazing cups of several sorts of ice-cream with topping such as chocolate sauce, chocolate pieces and even some fruits. John’s eyes were wide. He often had dreamed of such a cup while being in Afghanistan.  
“I know.” Sherlock quietly said and they smiled at each other. John reached out, but his hand got pushed away.  
“No, let me. Sit down again.” And John did sit down and watched him. Sherlock stuck two umbrellas into the cream as well as the plastic spoon. But then he also added a sparkler. He looked at John when he lit it up. A huge grin was on John’s face and Sherlock finally knew he had done something right.  
“This is just great!” John said and looked at it. Sherlock already had his finger into his own licking off some cream. He sat down, too, and they devoured the ice. When John looked up, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Around Sherlock’s lips and on his cheeks was cream and chocolate. How had he managed that?  
“I believe, I have to give you a wash, mate.” John said grinning. Sherlock looked at him.  
“But I have already taken a bath.” He sounded clueless.  
“Have a look into the mirror then.” John gave the friendly advice. Sherlock stood and John gave him a second.  
“Oh God!” He came back all red in his face and fell back on his chair.  
“Do it then.” He just said and closed his eyes. John hadn’t expected that, but he got a wash-cloth from the bath and gently cleaned his face with lukewarm water.  
“Much better now.” He said but stayed where he was. Sherlock opened his eyes and realised how close John was. And how good it felt. The closeness to John made him sigh and he couldn’t stop the noise.  
“Presentable again.” John added but still didn’t move away.  
“Thank you, John.” Sherlock said lifting up his arms. Rather awkwardly he wrapped them around John’s middle. John tensed but didn’t flee.  
Sherlock tilted his head up to meet his eyes. He wasn’t able to find the right words though. John carefully lowered his head until their lips finally met. The fingers on his hips tightened. John carefully used his tongue licking over the full lips and Sherlock parted them. John used his advantage in height and kissed him. After a second his fingers were in his hair and he moaned into his mouth.  
Sherlock’s fingers clawed into his flesh and he panted into his mouth. John scratched over his scalp and Sherlock made noises John wanted to have as a ringtone on his mobile.  
When after a while they needed a break, Sherlock pulled John down on his lap. It was rather undignified but John didn’t mind anymore. He enjoyed this very much and looked at Sherlock.  
“This is surprisingly nice.” Sherlock said.  
“You are stating the obvious.” John replied. Sherlock poked him into his ribs and he laughed out loud. Soon a fight started all playful and it didn’t take long until both men landed on the hardwood. They rolled around for a few seconds until John ended up on top of Sherlock. Their bodies were pressed together. John felt his growing arousal and wanted to move away, but Sherlock kept holding him. He wasn’t talking though. John looked at him.  
“What do you want?” He asked.  
“You. But I don’t know how or what …” He slowly shook his head. He still held John and his fingers unconsciously tapped a rhythm on John’s skin.  
“All of a sudden you want me?” John asked.  
“Not all of a sudden. You always gave me the _not-being-gay_ speech.” Sherlock argued.  
“You told me you were married to your work.” John replied.  
“Well, I still am, but I’ll take you as my affair d’amour.” John laughed out loud and Sherlock pouted. John kissed the pout way.  
“I like that.” John finally said looking at Sherlock.  
“What will happen next?” Sherlock asked.  
“Whatever we want.” John replied.


	6. Chapter Six

Mycroft and Greg entered the bedroom and at once Mycroft disappeared into the bath. Greg raised a brow but kept waiting for him. He didn’t want to get into the man’s bed before him.  
Mycroft came back already clad in pyjamas and Greg’s brow stayed up. He didn’t even own such things. He normally slept naked. But he assumed, that Mycroft felt more comfortable like this.  
“I’ll be right with you.” Greg said and quickly used the loo and also brushed his teeth again. He also decided to stay in his comfy clothes. He looked into the mirror and grinned at himself. Outside he slowly approached Mycroft who sat against the headrest.  
“Please, Gregory, come and join me.” He lifted up the duvet and even looked at him.  
“With pleasure, Myc.” Greg threw himself onto the mattress and moved up close. Not too close though. He could feel that Mycroft was still tense and not relaxed at all.  
“What can I do to make you relax with me?” He quietly asked.  
“I am not sure.” Mycroft replied.  
“What would you like to do?” Greg asked and Mycroft licked his lips.  
“I want you to kiss me.” Mycroft said and it made Greg smile.  
“I can do that.” Greg whispered and moved up close. Mycroft looked at Greg like an animal in headlights. Greg gently kissed him on the lips. He felt how uneasy Mycroft was and wondered about the reason. His hands roamed over his slim body still clad in the pyjamas. When Greg’s hand moved over the inside of his thigh he twitched and his head bumped against the headrest. He turned away.  
“Don’t!” He almost hissed out the word and Greg was shocked to the bones.  
“But you said …” He slowly shook his head.  
“I asked to be kissed. No more.” Now he even moved backwards. Greg was clueless. Somehow, he felt like he better should be leaving. But he didn’t want to leave him alone. Not in the state he was in right now.  
“I am sorry for overstepping. But you felt so good beneath me.” Greg said and Mycroft just stared at him. Then he turned his head away and sighed deeply.  
“No, I believe I am the sorry one. Perhaps you should just go and leave me. It’s useless. I am …” He shook his head and wouldn’t look up. But Greg could see him tremble.  
“God, Myc, are you crying?” Greg couldn’t but pull him into his arms and hold him. And only then Mycroft gave in and leant against Greg’s muscular body.  
After several minutes he just fell asleep and Greg put him under the blanket and covered him. He looked at him and found his face red and blotchy. It was also very human.  
Carefully he got up and padded downstairs again. He took the freedom to fill up his glass of wine. He looked at the clock and wondered, if he could call Sherlock to ask about Mycroft. But then he didn’t. He needed to talk to him alone. But he was worried, very much so.  
He was asking himself, if he should go back upstairs, when he heard him pounding downstairs.  
“Gregory? Greg?” He almost stumbled into his living-room and stopped dead upon seeing him.  
“I am right here, Myc.” Greg quietly said. Mycroft had panicked; he was able to see that.  
“I only had another drink. I am sorry, if I scared you.” Greg placed the glass down and approached him.  
“I thought you were gone …” Greg had had no idea, that Mycroft was able to make these puppy eyes he only knew from Sherlock. Obviously, it was a Holmes art. And he smiled at him.  
“So, you would like me to come back up with you? Stay with you?” Greg asked.  
“Yes. I am sorry for before.” He cast his eyes.  
“No, don’t be. You were obviously very scared and you will have a reason for that. Talk to me whenever you can. It’s OK. I won’t touch you again until you allow me.” Greg said. Mycroft looked very surprised.  
“You still want to be with me?” His eyes were wide and blue. Greg seriously nodded.  
“Yes, I do. You are a wonderful and sexy man. Very handsome and attractive, no matter what your brother says.” Now he even smiled a little bit.  
“I think, I need a drink now.” Mycroft murmured and Greg just made him sit and brought him wine, too.  
“You need to tell me what I am allowed to do. I can’t read you like you read me; you see?” Greg looked at him still being very worried. Mycroft wouldn’t look at him, but kept gnawing on his lips. It was the mirror image of Sherlock when said one had just realised, that he had done something a bit not good.  
But he still kept holding himself up, sat straight against the back of the sofa clinging to his glass. Greg carefully sat down beside him, close but not touching.  
“Listen, Myc. I am glad, I am here. I want to stay. I want to be with you. But you have to talk to me.” Mycroft turned the glass in his hand.  
“Did you like kissing me?” He suddenly asked still not looking up. Greg again thought of Sherlock.  
“I liked it a lot. I loved kissing you.” Greg said seriously.  
“So, I was good enough?” Mycroft asked. Greg was a bit shocked now.  
“How can you ask such a question? What kind of question is that anyway?” He emptied half of his glass while waiting for a reply that didn’t come.  
“Wait. Did some moron tell you that? Someone told you, you haven’t been good enough? What kind of a sorry wanker was that?” Greg was very angry and could watch Mycroft crawl into the sofa.  
“It was a long time ago. But I never … I haven’t …” Mycroft swallowed and downed his wine. Greg took their glasses and pulled him into his arms.  
“You are the best. You are sexy and attractive. I want you. Do you hear me?” Greg tried to meet his eyes and finally Mycroft looked up again. His eyes were wide open and again Greg was reminded of Sherlock. He would never tell.  
“I do hear you.” A shy smile was on his face and Greg lightly kissed him on his temple.


	7. Chapter Seven

Sherlock made John sleep in his bed. At first John had to remove all the junk and rubbish. Of course, Sherlock didn’t think of doing that because he had his place safe.  
“Be careful with that! It’s an experiment!” He talked over the hem of the blanket watching what John was doing.  
“You keep experiments in your bed?” John didn’t want to know more. But he very carefully placed everything on the nightstand and crawled into bed by Sherlock’s side. He rested his head on his elbow and looked at him. Sherlock looked back. It looked like he wanted to do something. Only he didn’t.  
“What do you need?” John whispered.  
“I need you, John. I want to touch you.” He already reached out, but didn’t make the final move. John moved closer.  
“Touch me.” He just said and then there was Sherlock’s palm flat on his broad chest. John closed his eyes and just felt. He felt Sherlock’s hand gently move over his skin. It was warm. No, it actually was hot and his lips parted.  
Sherlock’s thumb brushed over his nipple and he threw his head back. All his wanking fantasies finally came true. He opened his eyes again and watched Sherlock stare at his body. Then Sherlock’s head moved forward and his lips closed around his nipple.  
“Oh God!” John groaned and fell back into the cushions. One long arm sneaked over his waist but his lips stayed attached. He felt his tongue twirl and finally he sucked. John was hard, very hard. His cock poked into Sherlock’s flesh and he didn’t seem to mind at all.  
His longish hair tickled John at all the right places. He never wanted him to stop. Never.  
John’s hands were moving through Sherlock’s hair. It was something he had always wanted to do and now he could. He carded through the wild locks and scratched over his scalp. Sherlock groaned and his breath tickled John’s skin.  
All of a sudden Sherlock looked up and their eyes met.  
“Is this good?” He quietly asked as if he really wondered about doing it wrong.  
“Feel this?” John replied poking him with his dick. Sherlock looked a bit shocked. He swallowed.  
“Yes?” He finally answered. But he didn’t look or even touch.  
“It means, it’s perfect. You are. It’s amazing.” John whispered the praise and Sherlock sucked it up.  
“You want me to proceed?” He asked and John seriously looked at him.  
“Yes, please do proceed. You are doing great. It feels wonderful.” Sherlock hummed and lowered his head again. John’s head fell back on the pillow while Sherlock started to lick over his skin. He probably collected taste information and skin details. John smiled with his eyes closed.  
Sherlock licked into his belly button and John shot up shrieking. Sherlock quietly laughed and pressed him back into the mattress with a rather gentle pressure. His palm stayed flat on his stomach to hold him down and soon enough his nose was buried into John’s pubic hair. John’s prick rubbed over Sherlock’s face who curiously sniffed it over the entire length.  
John was panting.  
Their eyes met again over John’s cock and with a smile Sherlock opened his mouth. John’s eyes widened and the sight of Sherlock devouring his cock made him almost come on the spot.  
John tried not to move and not to push up into Sherlock’s mouth. Sherlock held him down anyway, so he wasn’t able to buck up. He was much stronger, than John had expected. He got increasingly surprised.  
He lost his battle when Sherlock stuck his tongue into the slit and strongly sucked. He even twirled his tongue around the head several times. The moment he let go with an obscene pop John came. He shot his load right into Sherlock’s face and hair. The sight was worth everything. Sherlock didn’t move or tried to wipe it off. Instead he waited until John was done and only then he licked over his lips and used a finger to collect some cum and taste it.  
“I assume, you liked what I have done?” He even had to ask. John was still panting but got up groaning.  
“More than like. You were brilliant!” John pulled him close and licked over one sharp cheekbone to taste his cum. Only then he realised, that Sherlock was still hard. John reached out but his hand got swatted away.  
“No.” Very clearly spoken and John froze.  
“But you …” John shook his head and was clueless.  
“It’s not important. It will go away. It always does.” He shrugged and leant against the headrest.  
“What do you mean by not important? Of course, it is important! And why would you want to ignore it? Don’t you want to come? Don’t you want to enjoy me showing my love for you?” Sherlock stared at him and John didn’t realise what he had just said.  
“John, you don’t have to reciprocate. It’s all fine.” Sherlock said in a calm voice.  
“No, it’s not. I feel like a bad man. It’s just not right.” John only murmured the words. He was helpless.  
“I liked giving this to you. But I need time to be on the receiving end. I can’t have you touch me like this. Not yet.” He took John’s hand and held it between his large ones. John felt strange.  
“God, what happened to him in the past? What can I do to make it better?” He worried his lips.  
“I trust you with everything. If you tell me, it’s all fine, it is. Whenever you need me or want to talk, I am here for you. Please let me hold you now?” John looked at him and found Sherlock looked less tense.  
John spread out his arms and Sherlock came up to him. He held him tight and closed his eyes. John didn’t mind the crust on his face and skin. He kissed him tenderly and pulled up the blanket.  
Sherlock wormed into John’s arms and wondered why he wasn’t able to let John touch him. He longed for John. He loved John. But the moment John came too close, he felt the bile rose. He only had blurry memories, but he was fairly sure something bad had once happened. He must have stored it into the deepest basement of his mind palace and locked the door, probably filled the room with concrete or something. He sighed and John’s grip tightened a bit.  
His erection was gone by now and he felt safe in John’s embrace.


	8. Chapter Eight

Mycroft woke early the next morning. It was his usual time to get up and get ready for work. But today he had a day off. He couldn’t even remember how long ago it had been, that he had a day off. He smiled and his eyes wandered over to the half-closed curtains. The sun wasn’t up yet and he could use an hour or so in his gym and run.  
He turned his head to look at Gregory. He was still in his bed and he broadly smiled. This was surprisingly nice. And even though they had had a smallish crisis last night, it still felt so good, so right. It was almost perfect.  
Gregory really wanted him. He even found him sexy and attractive. Mycroft blushed and felt the heat creeping up thinking of it.  
Very carefully he crept out of bed and took his tracksuit and running shoes. Sometimes he met the cleaning staff, but they rather quickly disappeared. He started to run and with the running started the thinking.  
Mycroft ran for about one hour and a half. The shirt clung to his body and he was sweaty. But he felt so much better. He had decided to talk to Gregory. He was convinced now, that Gregory would listen und understand. And most importantly he trusted him.  
He sneaked back into his bedroom because he didn’t want to wake him. Him. His boyfriend? His man? His love? Mycroft wondered and only then realised, that the curtains were pulled back now and the first rays of the sun shone inside. His eyes moved over to the bed and he found it empty. He raised his brows and listened. Only then he heard the shower. He smiled. Gregory used the shower. He imagined his naked body, wet and muscular, and felt his arousal. He swallowed and wondered, if he should join him. But then they both would be naked. And the light would be on. And Gregory would see everything. He would see every single wrinkle, the tiniest bit of fat plus all his bloody moles as well as many, so many freckles. He decided to wait and he didn’t have to wait for long.  
Gregory dashed outside only clad in a towel around his hips. A huge smile was on his tanned face when he saw him.  
“Hey gorgeous, where have you been?” He asked raking his fingers through his hair.  
“I have been running and I didn’t want to wake you.” Mycroft replied and wanted to pass by to take a shower, too.  
“I see. Unlucky you, because now I am done in there. We could have showered together, you know?” Mycroft blushed.  
“I thought about it. But then … Anyway, will you stay for breakfast?” Mycroft hopefully asked.  
“I might even stay for the day, if you want me to?” Greg smirked and Mycroft just nodded.  
“There are fresh clothes for you in my wardrobe. I took care of that for you. I hope, they will find your approval.” And gone he was into the bath. Greg looked at his back and raised a brow.  
“OK?” He murmured and opened the wardrobe. There were actual several choices for him to make and he only shook his head. But he did dress into them, because they were wonderful clothes and he liked them a lot. He felt a bit like a Ken though. He sighed and walked downstairs.  
Inside the kitchen he looked everywhere for the things to create a proper breakfast, but there was nothing.  
“Mr Holmes rarely orders breakfast.” Suddenly there was a voice, a male voice, behind him and the quickly turned around.  
“Good morning, DI Lestrade.” A man looking like a butler or body-guard or both said. Greg swallowed.  
“Good morning. I am sorry, but you startled me.” He didn’t even question that this man knew his name.  
“My name is Roger. Would you like coffee or tea for your breakfast?” He asked.  
“Coffee, please. But what breakfast?” He asked, but Roger already was on the phone with someone. Then he got complimented out of the kitchen and sat in the living-room. He could as well watch BBC morning. And so, he did while waiting for Mycroft.  
Said one came downstairs dressed impeccably as ever and Greg looked a bit disappointed.  
“You said, you had a day off!” He almost pouted.  
“But I have.” Mycroft answered.  
“Oh.” Greg made a weird sound or so Mycroft thought. What was he supposed to do or say now?  
“I just thought …” Greg gestured at him and obviously was startled over his appearance.  
“I always wear suits.” Mycroft said a bit stubbornly. Greg grinned.  
“Except for when you run or shower.” He replied a bit cheekily.  
“Of course. Do you object?” He asked.  
“I am not sure. It’s just not an outfit for doing stuff outside.” Greg stuttered a bit.  
“Well, it should depend on what one is doing outside, shouldn’t it?” Mycroft replied.  
“You are right, of course. So, do you have any plans?” Greg asked. Mycroft shrugged.  
“No. I don’t know what to do. I normally work. So, I am leaving the decision to you. We do whatever you like.” Mycroft was actually very curious what Gregory would decide. He wondered about weird activities and shuddered unsuspiciously.  
“Well, it’s still rather early. So, we could hop on a train and go to the sea? The weather is still so nice and I’d really like that. You would have to change though. It’s not an outfit for the beach.”  
“Firstly, I don’t hop on a train. I ride in cars and so will you. Secondly, I don’t believe, you expect me to have any beach wear!” He both sounded and looked rather shocked. Greg looked at him.  
“I only thought about a pair of jeans, a tee and a jumper? Sneakers? A leather jacket? Something like that? Just no three-piece-suit on a beach, please.” Greg said.  
“No pictures!” Mycroft demanded and Greg sighed.  
“Promise. Get dressed then!” He pointed upstairs and Mycroft did turn around and left to change. Greg waited and had another cup of coffee and a third croissant. Mycroft had had nothing except for a cup of tea.  
Greg looked up when he heard Mycroft coming downstairs again. And it was quite the sight. The jeans was the same from the day before and the t-shirt fit him well. He was carrying both a jumper and a jacket. He wore black shoes for outdoors.  
“You look great, Myc.” Greg assured him because he knew, he needed it. Mycroft smiled but didn’t comment. Instead he said:  
“I have already called my driver. Let’s go.” Greg just accepted his fate and turned around to open the door. His hand was on the handle when Mycroft stopped him.  
“Gregory?” He said quietly. Greg looked over his shoulder.  
“Yes? What is it?” He asked.  
“I don’t know if this will anger you, but please don’t touch me inappropriately or kiss me outside?” He looked nervous when telling Greg and it made turn Greg fully towards him.  
“Myc, you don’t anger me with your wishes. I told you to tell me. Whatever you need, I’ll give it to you. So, don’t be shy with stating your wishes. Never. Promise?” He took his hand and kissed his knuckles. And he made him blush.  
“Promise.” Mycroft roughly whispered and they finally left.  
Greg enjoyed the ride because he could hold Mycroft’s hand. They didn’t speak much but kept looking at each other. It was a wonderful ride.  
The driver stopped right by the sea and disappeared. They stood close to the pier and Greg just pulled him along. The look on Mycroft’s face was priceless.  
“What are you doing?” He asked trying to pull at Greg’s arm to make him stop, but he got pulled along.  
“I will buy you some candy and then we will be playing something stupid. I bet; you can manage to pull me a stuffed animal.”  
“What?” Mycroft was very, very clueless.  
“You’ll see. Come on!” Greg grinned a very boyish smile and Mycroft melted. He ended up in front of a stupid machine and Greg handed over a bucket with coins.  
“There you go!” Automatically Mycroft took the bucket but obviously had no idea what to do now. He looked into the machine where copper coins were moved on a metal plate and fell down. Obviously, you had to collect them to get something. His eyes wandered over to another machine were metal hooks could grab said stuffed animals and he ventured over. He studied the mechanism and the stick being used and finally fed the machine. Two slender fingers moved the stick targeting an animal, grabbing it and making it fall down. Greg made a happy noise and bent down to grab it while Mycroft worked on the next. An imperious grin was on his face when he dropped one after the other. Finally, he was pleased and turned to Greg.  
“I believe, I was promised some candy?” He said raising a brow.  
“You are the best!” Greg grinned and made him sit down at a table in the middle of the hall. He left him to get some candy and something to drink, as well.  
Afterwards he made him throw balls at cans and he got him a huge teddy-bear which Greg proudly carried along. They also sat outside for a while and enjoyed the sun and the sea.  
Finally, Greg demanded a late lunch before they went home. They found a nice seafood-place by the beach and Mycroft managed to get them the most perfect table looking out at the sea. They ordered fish and Greg had a beer while Mycroft ordered white wine with the fish.  
“Did you enjoy this activity?” Greg carefully asked when Mycroft didn’t say anything. Instead he kept looking at him and sipped his wine. He gingerly placed the glass back on the table and leant towards Greg.  
“It was a special experience and I did like it. It was weird though. For me it was. I mean … You are …” He pointed at the teddy-bear and the bag full of stuffed animals beside Greg.  
“Me what?” Greg asked being clueless. Mycroft emptied his glass and gestured for another one.  
“I don’t know how to explain. I am literally at a loss for words.” Mycroft finally admitted.  
“I rendered a Holmes speechless. I need to tell the world.” Greg smirked. Mycroft pouted; he really did. Again, with the resemblance of a certain consulting detective.  
And suddenly Greg knew. He knew, because he knew Sherlock. He stared at Mycroft.  
“You have never been on a pier. You have never played with these machines or really enjoyed the beach and the sun, am I right?” He asked.  
“Perfect deduction, Detective Inspector.” The acid was leaking, but Greg was immune because of Sherlock.  
“Oh, I have so many things to teach you, Myc.” He finished his beer and ordered another one. It came with Mycroft’s wine and their food. They ate their fish and both men liked it. Even Mycroft had nothing to complain about when he picked through the food.  
“Please eat, Myc. The fish is great and I want you to enjoy the day.” Mycroft looked up and counted the calories. Then he sighed and deleted the result. And he ate. Greg was rather pleased with himself.  
An hour later they stood by the road and were picked up by Mycroft’s driver for the ride home. Mycroft was yawning behind his hand and Greg smiled up at him.  
“Sleep in the car. I’ll be holding you.” Mycroft blushed but smiled. They ended up huddled together on the backseat. Mycroft did fall asleep at once and Greg followed soon.


	9. Chapter Nine

John really enjoyed Sherlock’s snuggling. He was deeply worried though about Sherlock’s reaction due to him being touched. He almost saw how he became sick and it was something so horrible, that he was shocked to the bone.  
Now he was able to hold him and he did so rather tightly. But Sherlock didn’t seem to mind, because he was sleeping and even snoring quietly against his side.  
John stared at the ceiling and wondered about Sherlock’s past. Again. Could he ask Mycroft? But John saw that more as a sign of betrayal. Perhaps Greg knew more? John was aware of the fact, that Sherlock had been saved by Greg. He had even lived with him for some time while getting off the drugs. It was also the time when Greg’s wife took off with another man and left him behind with almost nothing.  
John needed to know what was going on with Sherlock. He loved this man so much and he wanted him completely. It was a strange feeling of Sherlock gayness, that had come over him. Because he wasn’t gay, not at all. He only was gay for Sherlock Holmes. Perhaps it was worth a t-shirt?  
John smiled in the dark. He felt great. And even if there were some problems, it didn’t matter because he was holding Sherlock in his arms.  
He sighed and pecked a kiss on his hair. A low rumble came out of Sherlock and he pressed closer against him.  
“What’s wrong?” He roughly whispered against John’s bare skin and it tickled.  
“Nothing, go back to sleep.” John replied.  
“I can’t. You are thinking too loud.” Sherlock said tightening his own grip around John a bit.   
“I try to stop then.” John whispered back and closed his eyes.

***

The next morning John woke alone in their bed. He touched the place by his side and found it rather cold. Only then he listened into the flat and heard him rummage. John looked at the clock and found it was already 9 o’clock. He got up and made a beeline through the bath. He brushed his teeth, used the loo, and padded out to see what Sherlock was up to.  
“Good morning, my lovely.” John said approaching him. Sherlock hummed some sort of an answer and kept staring into the fridge. John looked, too, and found nothing to worry about.  
“What are you doing?” He asked.  
“I wanted to make you breakfast. But I don’t know what you want or how you want it.” John looked up at him.  
“You watch me every day having breakfast or even preparing.” John really wondered.  
“Yes, but I deleted the information because until now it wasn’t important.” Sherlock was gnawing on his lips.  
“Stop worrying. You can help me this morning and do it next time.” They looked at each other.  
“I feel like I disappointed you. It’s not good.” John carefully sneaked his arms around Sherlock and hugged him.  
“You did not disappoint me. It’s all fine. You are still the best.” He once pressed his head against Sherlock’s chest and only then let go of him. Now there was a pleased expression on his face and he seemed calmer than before.  
“Go on then. I’ll watch and take notes.” John just sighed, but didn’t let it out. Instead he started on their breakfast. He prepared coffee, jam, toast, and everything. Sherlock scribbled wildly into his notebook. It was weird, but John didn’t mind. He was bloody used to weird.  
The moment John placed the tray with their breakfast on their kitchen-table, Sherlock closed the notebook and plonked on the chair. He expectantly looked at John who still stood by the table.  
“Do you want me to feed you?” John asked with a smile. Sherlock blushed, but suddenly he slanted his eyes.  
“What, like in one of your little fantasies?” He asked and now John furiously blushed.  
“Have you been using my computer again?” He asked and Sherlock shrugged.  
“You never delete your browser history. And you know me, John. I am the curious one.” John breathed and counted to three but very slowly.  
“And?” He simply asked and Sherlock shrugged again.  
“It’s weird. I wonder why people like to do such things. And all the other things you obviously like very much.” John poured coffee, drank some and only then talked to him.  
“It’s not weird for me. You see, people like many different things. They do a lot of stuff together and if they consent, it’s all fine. Sometimes you try new stuff and you don’t like it. You won’t repeat them. But if you find things you like, you do them a lot or even watch films about it. Or you watch films about it, because you miss doing these things.” Sherlock had listened to him.  
“So, you miss doing these things? You need someone, you can feed? Or hit? Or tie up?” Sherlock asked. John swallowed, but then decided to be honest.  
“Yes, I sometimes do miss these things. But lately not. And you know why? Because I am with you. You are more important to me than some kinky sex-games.” John said lovingly.  
“Really?” Sherlock asked.  
“Really!” John replied. Sherlock shoved toast into his mouth which was lathered with butter and sugar. He chewed and stared into nothing. John knew he was thinking about something and by the look on his face, he had decided about it. John patiently waited for his reaction.  
“You can do these things with me.” He simply said and John stared at him with his mouth open.  
“What? Just yesterday you denied me touching your cock and now you are diving arse-deep into bondage and friends?” He spoke a bit too loud because Sherlock flinched.  
“I don’t want to lose you, John. If this is important to you, I will at least try. I can do that. And I trust you not to hurt me. I trust you to stop, when I am telling you stop.” They stared into each other’s eyes.  
“I am glad to hear that, I really am. But I don’t know, if I can do that.” John said.  
“Why not?” Sherlock demanded to know.  
“Because something is wrong, something has happened in your past. And before we do anything kinky, we have to find out what happened. You need to tell me, Sherlock.” John leant half over the table to get closer.  
“I honestly don’t know what happened. I can’t remember anything. Don’t believe I haven’t thought about it, because I have.” Sherlock told him.  
“You willingly forgot. Does Mycroft know?” John asked.  
“I have no idea. But I will ask him. For you I will dig deep into my past and find out. You are my doctor. You will cure me.” He said that completely honest and serious. It almost made John cry.  
“There is nothing to be cured. There is nothing wrong with you. I will help you, so you can enjoy our being together. That’s all that’s needed.” He reached out for him and Sherlock placed his hand into John’s.  
“I am actually rather hungry this morning.” Another heavily buttered and sugary toast disappeared into him and John smiled.  
“Go on and eat then. I am glad to hear that.” John grinned and poured more coffee.  
“After breakfast I want to go back to bed with you. You will explain a lot to me and also show me stuff.” He licked his fingers and John again could just stare.  
“What exactly do you have in mind?” But Sherlock didn’t answer. Instead he stood and left for the bath. A second after he had closed the door, he opened it again.  
“Don’t forget to bring your toy-box, John.” The door banged close and John just shook his head.  
“How the hell does he know about my toy-box? Did he look through my room again?” John sighed. He cleaned the table and wiped the surfaces while Sherlock took a shower. Afterwards he went upstairs into his room and carried said toy-box into Sherlock’s bedroom. He placed it on the bed and sat down, too.  
Soon enough Sherlock dashed inside in all his naked glory. He expectantly looked at John and then the box. He dressed into pyjamas bottoms and an old worn-out tee. He threw his body on the bed and crawled up to John.  
“Show me!” He demanded and John opened the box. Sherlock peered inside. Very carefully he reached out and sorted through everything. Finally, he picked the harness with an attached ball-gag. He held it up and looked at it. Then he placed it on his pillow. John didn’t comment; he just let him do whatever he needed to do.  
Next, he picked the handcuffs and placed them on his pillow, too. John by then raised a brow.  
The picking went on. Sherlock took a collar and the last items were the clamps. He closed the lid and looked at John.  
“If I were to tell you, I want these things used on me, how would you proceed?” John felt terrified. He tried to hide his erection but failed spectacularly. Sherlock snatched a pillow.  
“Here, cover your groin, if it helps you talk.” John took it and placed it strategically on his lap.  
“I am sorry. This is just so surprising.” John said and again earned himself a shrug.  
“John, please. It’s important for us to do this.” Sherlock quietly said and John straightened up.  
“Well, firstly your choices are interesting. You obviously didn’t choose what you know I like best, but you have chosen what you think, you could like. Am I right?” John asked.  
“Brilliant deduction, John!” But there wasn’t any sarcasm in it. John cleared his throat. And then he told Sherlock what he would do.  
“I take the harness and make you kneel. I am standing behind you and buckle it around your head. The ball-gag goes behind your teeth and maybe a bit of your beautiful hair will get stuck when buckling it right on your neck. The strap beneath your chin gets buckled tight, too. You won’t be able to push out the gag because you can’t move your jaw.” Sherlock leant a bit forward. His eyes were wide open.  
“I will continue by cuffing your wrists on your lower back. I will put the collar around your neck.” John had to stop for a bit and licked his lips. Sherlock simply stared at him.  
“And what about the clamps?” He finally asked.  
“Oh, the clamps. At first, I will rub over your nipples. They will become sensitive and only then I will clamp your nipples. And I will tighten the screw as much as possible.” Sherlock’s lips stood open by now.  
“You can do all this without really touching me.” John raised a brow but understood what he meant.  
“Absolutely.” John’s cock was still covered by the cushion.  
“How can I tell you to stop when I can’t speak?” Sherlock was sniffing the ball-gag.  
“I will always watch you. You will cross your fore- and middle finger to show me.” Sherlock hummed.  
“I think this might be interesting. But honestly I have no idea what is going to happen.”  
“You can never know that. I can only promise to take care of you. And whatever your reaction will be, I never will be angry or disappointed.” John looked dead serious. Sherlock believed him.  
“Go on then.” Sherlock pulled the t-shirt over his head and expectantly looked at John.  
“Now?” He asked staring at Sherlock.  
“Why not now? It’s as good as any other day or time.” He shrugged.  
“Fine. Just let me store this away.” He got out of bed and carried the toy-box outside.  
“Take it not too far. Perhaps you'll need it!” Sherlock called and John could hear the excitement in his voice.  
When John came back into the bedroom, he took a good look at Sherlock.  
“Tell me why you want to do this, Sherlock.” John asked him.  
“I want to please you. This is what you like and I want to give it to you.”  
“Promise me to not do anything you don’t want. If something feels wrong or if you hurt, you have to tell me, am I understood?” He seriously looked at Sherlock who simply nodded.  
“Yes, John.” And he took the collar, got up on his knees and moved closer to John. He held the collar up to him as some sacred offering.  
“Please?” His voice was low and John was able to see his arousal. It calmed him a bit to know Sherlock really wanted this.  
He took the collar and changed into dom-mode.  
“Get off the bed and kneel on the hardwood with your back towards me. Place your palms on your thighs.” Sherlock hurried and almost fell off the bed because he was stuck inside the sheets. But he managed and knelt down.  
John could see that he wanted to turn his head. It had been John’s intention to make him face the other way because he wanted to know if he obeyed his orders or not. His head kept moving but he didn’t look at John and his hands were flat on his thighs. John was indeed pleased.  
He stepped up and put the collar on Sherlock. He buckled it around his neck and checked the space between the soft filling and Sherlock’s skin. It fit perfectly. The dark brown on the unblemished white combined with his almost black hair was extremely erotic.  
“Kneel up straight for me, please.” John said and Sherlock straightened his lean body.  
“Hands on your back, please.” John ordered and Sherlock did that, too. John fastened the cuffs around Sherlock’s thin wrists.  
“You are doing very good, Sherlock.” He praised him because he knew he needed it. Now more than ever.  
Next, he took the harness and pulled it over his head. He adjusted the straps and Sherlock let him. He didn’t even make a single sound. He obediently opened his mouth when John pressed the ball-gag against his lips. He carefully placed it behind Sherlock’s teeth and pulled the strap below his jaw tight.  
And only then he moved around Sherlock to look at him. Sherlock stared straight ahead. He was sweating and by now his cock was fully erect. He must feel a bit weird because he was all red in his face, neck, and chest.  
“You are perfect! Amazing! Just look at you!” John whispered the words and tried to control himself. Sherlock still wouldn’t look at him. John knelt in front of him and took the first clamp.  
“Look at me, please.” Their eyes met and Sherlock’s were blown wide. Saliva was running over his chin already.  
“I will touch your chest and nipples now. Do you remember what to do if you don’t like it or if you are in pain?” Sherlock nodded rather slowly.  
“Show me!” John ordered and looked at his fingers who were crossed. John was convinced he could proceed. He lowered his head and blew over the right nipple followed by licking it and blowing over it again.  
The cuffs clinked and Sherlock shifted on his knees. His breath became audible. The moment John clamped his right nipple he shuddered but he didn’t cross his fingers. He repeated the action on the left side and still there was no noise coming out of Sherlock.  
John wondered if he didn’t feel enough or if he held back because of some weird Sherlockian reason. John tightened the screw slowly looking at Sherlock. His eyes fluttered closed and John knew he had him. He tightened the other side, as well, and only when he let go, Sherlock let out a low groan.  
Their eyes met and they locked eyes. John didn’t do anything more. They hadn’t agreed on more and John slowly stood. Sherlock’s eyes followed him.  
“Stay.” Just the one word but Sherlock settled. John wondered what he was thinking. He simply stood behind him and only after several minutes he started to move his fingertips over his scalp.  
Sherlock groaned and leant back against John’s legs. He relaxed and closed his eyes. Carefully John reached over his shoulder and his free hand pushed a clamp. A louder groan was the answer and his prick twitched and leaked.  
John was pleased. This was working. It would take time but they could make it work.  
By looking at Sherlock’s sweaty body and by taking his pulse John knew it was enough. Of course, Sherlock would never agree but John didn’t care. He wanted to end this session and used both fingers to work on the clamps until Sherlock screamed and shook and wildly came. Completely untouched.  
John admired the view until Sherlock was done. He groaned and looked up at John. He looked exhausted and John took off the harness and everything else. He didn’t offer to clean him because then he would have to touch him. Sherlock would learn from the experience when waking up.  
The moment his hands were free he slung his arms around John’s middle and hugged him tight.  
No words were spoken but John knew it must have been good.  
“What do you want to do now?” He would never suggest a nap or something.  
“I am tired. I am boring.” He slumped into bed and pulled the blanket up. John pecked a kiss on his temple and watched Sherlock fall asleep. He also willed away his erection.


	10. Chapter Ten

Mycroft woke all groggy and rubbed over his eyes. And suddenly he remembered. He had been on a pier for the very first time. And he had been with Gregory. It had been perfect. He had had a good time, a great time. And Gregory had spent the night with him again.  
He looked to the side but the bed was empty. Suddenly he felt cold and he listened into the house. Somehow, he knew that Gregory was still here. He never would just leave him without a note or something.  
He slowly got out of bed and went through his bathroom-routine. He didn’t bother with a dressing-gown because he wore pyjamas and a shirt anyway. Gregory was having a bad influence on him. He smiled.  
Walking downstairs he was able to hear music playing. What was going on in his house? He looked into the kitchen and found Roger.  
“Good morning, Sir. DI Lestrade is in the living-room. He chose to have breakfast in there. What would you like?”  
“The usual, Roger. Thank you.” He got his cup of coffee and went to join Gregory. He found him on the sofa. He had spread crumbs everywhere and his head was a mess.  
“Good morning, love!” He grinned happily looking at Mycroft who slowly came closer.  
“You could have woken me up.” Mycroft said and sat down not knowing what was appropriate now.  
“You needed your sleep after yesterday’s activities.”  
“What about you?” Greg shrugged.  
“I had a splendid time with you and I don’t like the fact that the weekend is over tonight.” He sighed.  
Mycroft already calculated the number of hours he needed to catch up with his work. He also thought about the fact that he normally never had weekends or days off. The only exception was Christmas because their parents wanted the boys home for Christmas dinner.  
“I don’t want to sound clingy but where does this leave us?” Greg quietly asked looking up at Mycroft.  
“I hope this leaves us very happy people. I would like to have more dinners with you, more meals actually. I would like to spend more time with you. You know things to do I have probably no idea of. Meaning, I liked it yesterday. A lot. Perhaps you need to come shopping clothes with me for more adventurous things.” Greg laughed out loud.  
Mycroft blushed but continued his speech.  
“You know exactly what I am talking about, Gregory. What do you say?” He asked holding on to his cup of coffee.  
“Do you even have to ask? I want everything you just have mentioned, too. I like you a lot and I want to spent time with you.” Greg sounded sincere.  
“I am afraid you will have to be patient with me.” He slowly came closer and sat by Greg’s side.  
“Just tell me what you need and I will take care of it. I will come along for your shopping; I will cook meals for you and I will take you out for excursions in both London and elsewhere.” Mycroft smiled.  
“You know, I often will have to go abroad and I won’t be able to tell you why and where and perhaps not even for how long.” Mycroft quietly said.  
“Mycroft, I am a police-officer. I know about secrets and I swore an oath, as well. I might not have the clearance Sherlock or John have, but I will always trust you.”  
“I woke up and you were gone.” Mycroft whispered.  
“I wasn’t gone. I had breakfast.”  
“Can we agree to write notes to each other in that case?” Greg looked at him thinking he was joking perhaps but he obviously wasn’t by the expression on his face.  
“Of course, we can, but don’t get mad if I forget it at the beginning. I promise to try my very best though.”  
“That’s enough for me. It’s just, I am not used to anyone in my presence; in my bed even. Sometimes I get up in the middle of the night to run or work. I just don’t want you to be worried in that case.”  
“And I might sneak downstairs into your fantastic kitchen to fetch a midnight-snack.” Greg grinned and he saw Mycroft relax.  
“By the way, is this your only breakfast?” Greg asked pointing at Mycroft’s cup.  
“Yes. I had a feast yesterday. It’s all fine.”  
“You had normal meals yesterday. You need to eat and don’t you tell me eating slows you down.” Mycroft closed his mouth.  
“I promise to have dinner with you.” Mycroft said.  
“And what about lunch?” Greg asked. Mycroft shook his head.  
“Not yet. I want to do something outside. What do you suggest?” Expectantly he looked at Greg.  
“Well, I suggest to get dressed and go into town. It’s Sunday and we could visit Camden or the Embankment or some museum, if you like?” Mycroft thought about it for a bit.  
“Not a museum but perhaps Camden. I haven’t been there for ages.” He looked thoughtful.  
“Perfect! Give me your cup and get ready. I’ll be with you in a second.” They stood and Greg left for the kitchen while Mycroft walked upstairs. Probably Greg wanted to eat some more.

***

About half an hour later they were dressed and discussed the ride.  
“It’s stupid to go by car. It’s too crowded and someone might damage it.”  
“It won’t be parked there. My driver will just let us out.”  
“You said you wanted to do something with me. What about riding the tube?”  
“If it would be just for the fun of it, I just might. But you see, Gregory, I can’t do that. It would be too dangerous.”  
“But what about Camden Market then?” Greg asked.  
“I will tell the driver to call the office and they will send protection to watch over us.”  
“You mean you.” Greg muttered.  
“No, I mean us, Gregory. I am sorry but you have to deal with my situation. If you can’t, tell me now and we don’t move any further.” He already made a step back.  
“Hey, hey, don’t. I am sorry.” Greg snatched his hand and held him there.  
“I am just not used to it. I will get used to it. I want you. Meaning, I am going to accept everything that comes with the package.”  
“It won’t be easy sometimes.” Mycroft said.  
“I know. There will be problems coming up. With your and my job combined, there is no easy.”  
“Plus, I need to tell Sherlock. About us, I mean.”  
“Absolutely. We can do that together, if you like.” They smiled at each other and Greg leant forward to kiss him. Their lips gently brushed and Mycroft sighed.  
“Can I call my driver now to take us to Camden?” He asked looking into Greg’s eyes.  
“Please do.” Greg checked his pockets for his wallet and badge. Mycroft raised a brow but didn’t comment.  
Greg knew he didn’t have a lot of money left after yesterday’s day at the sea but it was enough for an ice-cream or a little gift for Mycroft.

***

They spent some lovely hours outside and, in the end, it was Mycroft who bought a little something for Greg. But Greg managed to get some ice-cream into him and he really enjoyed it.  
By late afternoon Greg was hammered. Mycroft though was still looking around and wanted to go there and see this. He kept pulling Greg along until he was stopped.  
“I need to sit down for a second, Mycroft. Stop right here. I’ll just sit on the bricks while you go on.” And he plonked down. Mycroft turned fully towards him and raised a brow.  
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” He sounded worried.  
“No, I am just so tired. I am sorry I am spoiling this for you but I…” Greg looked on the ground. And only now Mycroft had a closer look at him. And he saw the pale skin as well as the black shadowed dark brown tired eyes. His features softened when he simply sat down by his side.  
“No, I am sorry to have dragged you along without noticing. I’ll call the car and we will go home. I’ll take care of you if you let me.” He spoke quietly and didn’t dare touch Greg. But Greg turned his head and smiled.  
“Sounds good. Make him stop close by, please.” They stood and Mycroft already typed a text into his mobile to summon his driver.  
Greg sighed when sliding inside. Mycroft followed suit and the door was closed. They rode back to Mycroft’s place and when entering the house Greg just left his shoes by the door and fell into an armchair.  
“Make yourself at home…” Mycroft whispered and saw when his eyes slowly drooped. He was asleep in less than a minute and he placed a blanket over him. He didn’t wake.  
But now Mycroft was clueless. How long would Greg be asleep? What was he supposed to do? When should he start preparing dinner? What should he prepare for dinner? He stood inside his kitchen and wondered.  
He looked into the fridge and closed it again. He went through the cupboards and didn’t take anything.  
“May I help you with anything, Sir?” There was Roger who had noticed them coming back but had wondered why no one wanted anything. And now he found his boss in the kitchen.  
Mycroft turned around and leant against the counter.  
“I promised to feed the DI. He is asleep right now and surely would appreciate a proper meal for dinner.”  
“Anything special?” Roger asked.  
“No, something simple. I won’t eat it, for me just greens. But for him, I don’t know. Can you do pizza?” He just had to ask and then saw Roger raise a brow. Then he even cleared his throat. It all looked suspiciously annoyed.  
“Yes, I can do pizza, Sir.”  
“He’d love that. Thank you so much, Roger.” And Mycroft quickly left the kitchen and wondered if he had to raise his salary.  
He returned into the living-room and didn’t know if it was appropriate to join the sleeping man in there. But where else could he go? For once, he actually didn’t want to work. He also didn’t want to go to bed or run on the treadmill. He was wide awake and finally poured a drink.  
And he watched Greg sleeping in his armchair. His face was relaxed and he didn’t move. Mycroft smiled. He felt good. He wished he could be brave enough to be with him. He wanted him close but then he couldn’t bear to be touched, not even by him.  
In the past he had been hurt too much and it had manifested inside his great mind. He never had been with another man again after that experience. He had concentrated on his career and on Sherlock, of course. It was always easier to take care of another person, give them advice, than to look after yourself.  
He leant against the fire-place and sipped his drink. He also kept looking at Greg. He had no idea how long he had done it when his thoughts were interrupted.  
“What are you doing, Myc?” Greg’s voice was rough from sleep and he tried to sit up straight. Then he wiped his mouth and blushed a bit. He had been drooling on his shoulder.  
Mycroft straightened up at once and felt like being caught in the headlights.  
“Nothing? I am having a drink.” He replied and Greg smiled. Then he stood.  
“I am sorry I fell asleep. You must be bored now. I’ll better be going home now.” Mycroft made a sudden step toward him.  
“But I have ordered Roger to prepare your dinner. Please, stay for dinner.” He looked desperate.  
“Really? Fine then. May I go into your pompous bathroom and freshen up a bit?” He asked.  
“Sure. Your comfys are cleaned and on the bed.” Mycroft replied and blushed a deeper shade of red.  
“Thank you. It feels good to be looked after for once.” Greg slowly stretched his body and Mycroft licked his lips.  
“But you were married.” He had no idea what else to say. Greg shrugged.  
“Being married doesn’t mean to be taken care of.” He looked sad saying this and slowly left the room. Mycroft looked at him but didn’t stop him. Now he felt the urge to take care of him. First thing, he needed to eat. He rushed into the kitchen to look how far Roger was done with the pizza. The smell coming from the oven was tasty and he felt very pleased.  
“Dinner for your and DI Lestrade will be ready in about 15 minutes, Sir.”  
“Thank you, Roger. You may retreat after serving. I will see you tomorrow morning.” Roger nodded and thanked him.  
Mycroft quickly returned into the living-room and waited for Greg.  
“You have everything cleaned, even my messed-up suit from the crime-scene. Thank you so much, Myc.” Greg smiled and looked a bit better.  
“Of course, I had. I took you away from there.” Suddenly Greg wrinkled his nose.  
“Is that pizza I am smelling?” He asked.  
“Yes, I asked Roger to cook it. He didn’t fancy it but here it comes.” Roger brought the pizza and served it on a wooden plate. It looked like nothing Greg had ever ordered as a pizza.  
“Thanks a lot. It looks delicious.” Roger was appeased and brought Mycroft his salad. Greg didn’t comment but at once started to eat.  
They finished their meal and without words decided to go upstairs. Again, Mycroft very quickly disappeared into his bath and prepared for bed. Greg knew he just had to be patient. He followed him suit and found him covered up when he joined him.  
Mycroft looked at him and Greg questioningly raised a brow.  
“What is it, Myc?” He quietly asked.  
“I wonder why you are still here. I mean, you must think me weird.” Greg quietly laughed shaking his head.  
“I might find you weird, yes, but for other reasons than you are thinking of.” A small smile appeared on Mycroft’s face.  
“That’s good because I really would like to see you again.” Mycroft said a bit stiffly.  
“What are you talking about? Of course, we will be seeing each other again. And next time you are coming to my place. It doesn’t have a treadmill though and it isn’t in such a posh neighbourhood but I would like to return the favour. You are always welcome. Always.” Greg seriously looked at him and carefully held out his palm on the blanket.  
“I appreciate it. And I will come and see you there. I don’t care about the neighbourhood or whatever. I care about you. I want to be with you and yet I can’t. I have to ask for your patience.”  
“Ask Sherlock, I am the most patient man at Scotland Yard.” Greg grinned his boyish grin and Mycroft felt hot.  
“I absolutely won’t ask my brother anything. But I thank you for having given me this weekend. It has been special and I will always treasure it.” Mycroft slowly reached out and very carefully covered Greg’s hand.  
“Let’s go to sleep. I believe, both of us need to get up early tomorrow morning.” Greg moved under the blanket and Mycroft switched the light off.  
Their fingers stayed entangled on the blanket.


	11. Chapter Eleven

John watched him sleep for a few minutes and finally left with a huge smile on his face. He quietly closed the bedroom-door and prepared tea. He sat in his armchair and thought about what they had done.  
He thought it absolutely amazing that Sherlock had come untouched. He also thought it strange that Sherlock had agreed to the whole bondage-thing. Plus, he hadn’t even touched him intimately. Well, he had used handcuffs, a head-harness, and a ball-gag. And even clamps had been screwed tight. Obviously, Sherlock had liked it and perhaps he had liked it a bit too much.  
John would have to be so very careful with him. He knew Sherlock liked to exaggerate and wanted to experience anything new all at once. John had to be abundantly clear about the fact that it was him giving the orders. He could never allow him to top from the bottom.  
He slowly sipped his tea and enjoyed the aftermath. His spine tingled and he was half hard already again. But he didn’t want to wank alone in his room. It would feel like betrayal.

***

Sherlock slept for a few hours and he woke because his genitals itched like mad. He pulled a face and reached under the blanket. He felt crusted cum on his cock and thighs. He wondered about it for a moment but then realised he had just gone to bed after their session or whatever it was called. And obviously John hadn’t cleaned him because Sherlock had made it clear he didn’t want to be touched down there.  
He carefully crept out of his bed and quickly walked into the bath. The dried cum wasn’t a pleasant experience and he didn’t want to repeat it. He needed to talk to John about it. Perhaps he could allow him to touch him only for cleaning reasons. But would that be fair?  
Perhaps he had to get over his past. This was John after all. John would never ever hurt him or do anything inappropriate.  
Standing under the shower he decided to talk to Greg about this. Greg knew about the sex. He had been married. Greg would be able to help.  
Sherlock was pleased with himself and towelled himself dry. He hung the towel back up to show he cared about the state of the bath. John would like it. He dressed into his pyjamas and a t-shirt and went to find John.  
“There you are. Tea?” John offered from his seat when Sherlock slowly joined him.  
“Yes, I had to shower as you probably know. And yes. I’d like tea.” He smiled at John and didn’t know how to behave around him. John stood and smiled up at him. On his way he passed by close and gently rubbed over his arm. Sherlock closed his eyes and smiled. This was surprisingly nice. The touching.  
John returned with tea for both of them. They sat in their armchairs and looked at each other. Sherlock wondered if John expected some talk about what happened.  
“Talk to me, please?” John said right then and Sherlock instead sipped his tea first.  
“It was good. What you did to me. I liked it. It made my spine tingle. I thought I blacked out for a second. The pain in my nipples wasn’t actual pain. It was something else because it was also good.” He helplessly shrugged and drank more tea.  
John tilted his head and smiled.  
“It’s called painpleasure. It looked like you enjoyed all this.” He sipped some tea, as well.  
“I did enjoy what you did. It felt good. I felt good.”  
“You might have noticed that going to bed without having cleaned yourself wasn’t such a good idea.” John said.  
“Yes. I want to let you know that I appreciate you didn’t clean me up while being asleep. I just had to shower and it didn’t feel great. It was itching.” He gestured into the direction of his groin.  
“If you would like to keep going with this, don’t you think we should agree on having you cleaned?” John carefully asked.  
“We can agree that you will stop me from going to sleep without having cleaned myself. For the start, I mean.”  
“Then we agree to that. Very good.” John looked pleased.  
“So, you would do this to me again?” Sherlock bluntly asked and it made John laugh.  
“Absolutely. Yes.” He even nodded and Sherlock’s eyes wandered down his body.  
“I did not. I mean, have you…?” He didn’t know how to word this and John shook his head.  
“No, I haven’t come. But I was aroused. I also felt very, very good.”  
“Do you want me to…” Sherlock offered but John shook his head.  
“No, it’s all fine. We will talk about it when we plan our next session.”  
“OK, that’s good.” He again looked into his mug and looked rather thoughtful. John watched him.  
“What are we going to do now?” He asked looking up again. John shrugged.  
“We can watch a bit of crap-telly? Sit on the sofa and hold hands? I will prepare dinner and you could check if there are any new cases?” Sherlock stared at him. He hadn’t expected this. He actually didn’t know what he expected.  
“Oh, yes. We can do that. Absolutely.” He nodded and stood. He just placed his mug into the sink and looked around to find his mobile.  
“Coffee-table, resting by your laptop.” John pointed the way and Sherlock changed direction. Passing him he smiled. But he didn’t dare touching him.  
He checked his mobile for any texts but there was nothing. The whole weekend there wasn’t any text from Greg regarding the case. And his brother hadn’t texted either. Strange, he thought.  
He had seen both of them on the crime-scene he had left in a hurry. His brother had still been there. What had happened then? Had anything happened then?” He raised his brows and wondered if he could still hack his brother’s CCTV access.  
Well, yes, of course he could because he was Sherlock bloody Holmes. He grinned and powered up his computer.  
At once he started to type wildly. John watched him for a few minutes but then picked up his almost forgotten paperback and began to read. Once and again Sherlock looked over to John if he was still watching but he was reading quietly. Sherlock knew John wouldn’t approve and he didn’t want to anger him.  
He gained access rather quickly and checked the crime-scene surroundings at first. He saw them both leaving together. He saw his brother ushering Lestrade into his black sedan. Sherlock raised a brow. He changed towards Mycroft’s townhouse. There were no public cameras but Mycroft had his own installed for security reasons. He saw them enter and he kept forwarding for a very long time until they left the house the following day. And they were both clad in strange clothes. His brother actually didn’t wear a three-piece suit. Sherlock couldn’t remember when that happened the last time. And Lestrade wore a new ensemble. It suited him and he looked good. Now Sherlock slanted his eyes. They left in Mycroft’s car again.  
Now Sherlock had to dug deeper and he kept tracing the car via modern technology called _Kaleidoscope_. Kaleidoscope Search is a visual search that scans live feeds from traffic cams through inputting of search parameters That way you could follow a car around. That’s what Sherlock did for a long time. He found them back at the coast and hacked the CCTV by the pier and inside. Now his eyes widened again and he was kind of jealous. He wanted to go there, too. Carefully he looked at John again. Could he ask him for such a thing? Would John like the idea? Or would he think him stupid and childish?  
Suddenly Sherlock realised that Lestrade had stayed overnight. He had stayed in his brother’s house. His brother hadn’t had sex for ages, Sherlock knew it. He had given up after his first and ugly attempt of founding a relationship with another man. He had been hurt too much; he had never even tried again.  
Sherlock had always wondered if his brother liked Lestrade. And if Lestrade liked him. Obviously, they did like each other. Mycroft had even invited him over. He had bought him clothes. Was he asking him out? But Lestrade had been married. He was an experienced lover. Sherlock knew all of it since he had lived with the man and quite often had simply left the house when Greg had brought someone home.  
Sherlock was a little bit scared about what might happen between them. He worried his lips and kept watching. He scrolled through another night and lost them in Camden but they returned home. Again.  
He was live now and the light just had been switched off. He looked towards their window and it was actually dark outside. He swallowed.  
“Sherlock? I asked you a question.” Sherlock twitched and abruptly closed the lid of his computer. There was John.  
“John!” He felt like he was blushing. John tilted his head and looked at him.  
“What were you doing? You were lost deep in something. I called you three times because I want to start dinner.”  
“I am sorry. I would like to have dinner. Thank you.” He cleared this throat. John kept being curious.  
“So, what were you up to? You looked both extremely busy and agitated.” He placed his palm on his neck and his fingers gently stroked over his nape. Sherlock closed his eyes in delight and a smile came up.  
“I did something a bit not good. I will tell you over dinner.” He admitted it freely.  
“That was exactly the look you had. Something a bit not good. And I am curious to hear your story.” He let go and disappeared into their kitchen.  
Sherlock actually felt the loss of his touch and he started to wonder if John was the one who would restore him, make him feel good again with being touched in the nether regions. He quietly sighed and stood to set up the table. He knew John liked it when he did that.  
He slowly collected plates and everything else needed. He poured wine into a decanter and polished the glasses. He found the candle and brought a flower from the window-sill. He even got the table-cloth and the linen-napkins. He was deep in thoughts but worked like an automaton.  
John watched him while doing all that and he smiled. He had changed since he moved in. He very much hoped they could be together. He liked him. He shook his head. No, that wasn’t enough. His feelings went deeper and he knew it already. He actually knew it from the beginning; he could love this man, this weird and also kind man.  
And even if Sherlock decided to not delve into the bondage stuff, he wouldn’t mind. He just wanted to make him happy. He wanted to be allowed to love him.  
“Sherlock?” Said one woke and turned around to look at John. Had he done something wrong?  
“Yes? What else do you want me to do?” He asked and John raised a brow.  
“Nothing, what you have just done is perfect. I only wanted to ask if you liked dessert?” Sherlock crept closer.  
“Yes, actually I like. I am hungry.” He rubbed over his non-existing stomach and John’s eyes were glued to his middle.  
“Very good. I will prepare something then.” He cleared his throat and quickly turned around.  
“So, you don’t need me?” Sherlock asked. The question made John turn back around.  
“I always need you, Sherlock.” He said it very seriously and made Sherlock actually blush. Then a small smile followed.  
“As I do you, John.” Both men stared at each other until Sherlock broke the eye-contact and went away to shut down his computer. John beamed and started to prepare chocolate mousse. He even added some fruits.  
Sherlock also picked up his mobile. It was blinking with a text-message. Actually, there were several of them and they were all sent from his brother. Sherlock raised a brow. He knew he had been caught but he didn’t mind. He started to read.

_“What are you up to?”  
MH_

Sherlock grinned.

_“Stop invading my life!”  
MH_

“Life? What life?” Sherlock thought.

_“I will tell John.”  
MH_

Now Sherlock raised a brow. This had been a threat.

_“Where are you?”  
MH_

The grin returned.

_“I will tell Gregory.”  
MH_

Now it became serious. He couldn’t anger Lestrade because of the work.

_“He will be cross with you.”  
MH_

Perhaps he should text him something calming? But what? He bit his lower lip.  
“Don’t do that, love. You will start to bleed.” John was by his side.  
“Besides, dinner is ready. So, please tear yourself apart from your mobile and join me.” Sherlock threw the mobile on the sofa and quickly followed John. They sat down and Sherlock eyed the large pan that sat in the middle. It was one of his favourites. Rice and lamb and only a few selected greens cooked in martini and herbs. He looked at John.  
“This is wonderful. Thank you for cooking this.” John beamed at him and then shrugged.  
“I would like you to eat more, so if this is the way, I will do this for you every day.” He smiled.  
“I know you mean well but you also know that eating slows me down. It concerns the work.” Sherlock was serious about it.  
“I am concerned, too. You need brain-food, as well.” Sherlock in the meantime took one spoon full after the other. John watched him eat without noticing.  
“I have been hacking into my brother's CCTV.” Sherlock suddenly said and John looked up.  
“It's the government's CCTV.” John replied and they looked at each other.  
“That's what I just said, John. Keep up.” Sherlock took another bite and John sipped his wine to prevent himself from saying something nasty.  
“Anyway, I had been wondering why I haven't got any texts from either Lestrade or Mycroft over the weekend.”  
“And?” John was losing his patience.  
“They have spent the weekend together.” His face looked triumphant.  
“So?” John was curious about Sherlock's reaction.  
“Don't you think that's weird?” Sherlock asked.  
“No, I don't. Are you jealous?” Sherlock opened his mouth but didn't speak. Instead he ate another piece of lamb.  
“So?” John insisted.  
“No, I am not jealous. I just wonder if it will harm the work.” Now John drank some more.  
“Aren't you just a tiny bit happy for them?” John asked. Sherlock thought about his answer. And smiled.  
“Actually I am. Mycroft deserves it, no matter how much we banter. He deserves everything Lestrade has to give.”  
“Coming from you, that means a lot.” Sherlock smiled.  
“I need to talk to him.” Sherlock thoughtfully said and John nodded.  
“Yes, perhaps you might also tell him about us?” John said.  
“Do you want them to know about us?” He sounded absolutely serious, not sarcastic.  
“I am a very happy man, Sherlock, because I am with you. I want them to know. I want everyone to know.”  
“But people might think you weird because you are with me. I don't want that.” He shook his head.  
“I don't care what people say. I love you.” And out it was. Sherlock stared at him and dropped the fork.  
“You do?” His voice broke and his eyes teared up. John stood and pulled him up and into his arms.  
“Yes, I do. I love you very much. Call him after dinner.” John wanted to sit down again but Sherlock kept holding him.  
“I love you, too.”


End file.
